Aim For the Heart
by bionic4ever
Summary: Steve and Jaime are caught in a love triangle, but who is the deadly third participant? Special thanks to Lori and Julie for their unwavering support.
1. Prologue

**Aim For the Heart**

Prologue

Too many unshed tears had frozen his heart, making it harder than stone. Jaime reminded him of a nearly-grown young colt as he watched her running through the tall grass that grew beside the river. She looked beautiful, moving with such breath-taking grace, but the eyes that stared at her through the window were filled with menace.

_Steve_ was waiting at the end of the path, and the man at the window glowered angrily as he watched Jaime melt so easily into his arms. The observer stepped back into his office, unable to watch the woman who _should_ be **his **kissing another man.

Who the hell did Steve think he was? And Jaime – how could she do this to him? She'd loved him once, the way he still loved her. She'd never actually said it, but he could see it in her eyes, feel it in her touch. Steve should never have come back to California! His fury gave him new determination; Steve would pay – dearly – for his mistake, and then Jaime would see the error of her ways and return to his arms, _forever_.

- - - - - -


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Jaime and Steve sat very close together on 'their' fallen tree, oblivious to the ducks on the lake, the children playing nearby and even the beauty of the setting. Their eyes – their hearts and minds, as well – were solely occupied with each other. It had been over six months since surgery had restored Jaime's memory, but it was the first time since the operation that the couple had managed to eke out a healthy chunk of time to just be together. They hadn't expected to pick up exactly where they'd left off, but they also hadn't anticipated the intensity and depth of the emotions they'd both felt, the instant they were finally alone together. Their love was stronger than ever before, by virtue of everything they'd suffered – together and apart – before arriving at this moment.

Speech wasn't necessary; their eyes were very capably saying it all. Their lips met with white-hot sizzle and the comfort of being the only two people on the planet. Unfortunately, they were _not_ alone. They were so thoroughly absorbed in re-ignited feelings that Jaime almost missed a sound that only her ultra-sensitive hearing could possibly recognize: the ominous double-click of a safety being released and the cocking of a gun.

Moving on instinct before she could fully process the sound, Jaime was instantly on her feet, her arms still around Steve as she rolled both of them into the lake. The splash and the gunshot merged into one crackling noise in Jaime's head as her body jerked violently from the force of the bullet. One look at her face while they were underwater told Steve that she wasn't joking around. His eyes grew wide with alarm as Jaime's eyes fluttered shut. Holding his breath, Steve, dove toward her, scooped her into his arms and swam for the surface at the moment that Jaime began to inhale water.

Steve set her down gently in the grass, rolling her onto her side. Jaime coughed, sputtered and slowly opened her eyes.

"Gun..." she whispered weakly. Steve looked around, but their assailant had fled and the children – the only potential witnesses – had scattered and run away. He leaned closer to Jaime, eying her carefully. He couldn't see any blood, but she was obviously hurt.

"Sweetheart, where were you hit?"

"Shoulder..." She shifted onto her back and Steve saw that the bullet had entered her upper right arm. He breathed a sigh of relief until he saw the bulging mass on Jaime's shoulder, _above _the point where bionics met flesh.

- - - - - -

He tore off the hat that he'd tucked his hair under and tossed it beneath the seat of the car, along with the gun. His heart pounded wildly and his eyes glowed with self-satisfaction. _That oughta prove to Jaime that being with Steve only puts her in danger!_ He hadn't been able to hang around to see the results of the first step of his plan, but he'd fired wildly into the lake, taking care to aim _away_ from the undeservedly happy couple. He had no intention of hurting them; not yet, anyway.

- - - - - -

Steve took Jaime to the hospital himself, even faster than an ambulance could have, and Rudy rushed her straight into surgery. Oscar had been at his Los Angeles office with Chris Williams and Russ, and he arrived while Steve was still pacing helplessly in front of the OR doors.

"What happened, Pal?" he asked quietly.

"Jaime must've heard a shot; she pulled me into the water with her, and when we came up again..." Steve's voice broke, and he took a few fast steps away and back again to regain some composure. "Rudy said the bullet that hit her in the arm moved through her bionics and lodged in her shoulder. He's removing it now."

"Did you see a gunman?"

"No. I don't think Jaime did, either, but -" Steve turned quickly when he heard the OR doors swing open. "Rudy?" he asked anxiously.

"She'll be just fine," the doctor answered, a reassuring hand on Steve's shoulder. "The bullet missed her major arteries, and we've already patched up the arm. She'll have a mighty sore shoulder for awhile, though."

"Can I see her?" Steve pleaded.

"She won't even start coming to for at least a couple of hours -"

"I'd like to sit with her anyway."

Rudy nodded. "A few minutes, as soon as she's settled in her room." He handed Oscar a very small box. "Here's the bullet."

"I'll take it to the lab right away," Oscar told Steve. "Whoever did this, we'll get them, Pal."

- - - - - -

An angry fist slammed into the wall of the office a few hours later. **_Damn it_**! No one was supposed to get hurt – not this time – and especially not Jaime. He knew it was Steve's fault. She'd probably made a move to push him out of the way, and the shot that should have gone wild hit her, instead.

_ I hope you're happy, Austin! Just look at what you did; she could've been killed, and it was all on account of you, your actions and your stupidity. You won't be happy for much longer, though..._

_- - - - - - _


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Jaime was released from the hospital in a mere four days, but Rudy had only agreed to let her go because she wasn't going home. She was leaving with her care entrusted to the only person who'd keep an even closer eye on Jaime than her doctors: Steve. He'd equipped his guest room with extra pillows, a soft, cushy quilt and even Jaime's childhood teddy bear, fresh from Jim and Helen's attic, for extra-special comfort.

There were no clues yet to the identity of the mystery shooter; the bullet had been badly damaged as it tore through bionic circuitry and had been rendered untraceable. They didn't even know if the target had been Jaime, Steve or both of them, but Steve felt he could keep her safer at home than in a hospital with dozens of people milling around them. While he was chomping at the bit to work with Oscar, and with Chris and Russ, to bring the shooter to his own personal brand of justice, Steve knew he belonged where his heart was firmly committed: at Jaime's side. If their assailant even attempted to come after them again, he would protect her with his very life, if necessary, and there would be no one on Earth who would be able to protect that trigger man.

Jaime sank gratefully into the cushions of the big, over-stuffed sofa, giving Steve a weary but happy smile.

"Do you need anything, Sweetheart?" he asked.

"Yeah – there is something...I need you to stop hovering, sit down and relax with me. Please?"

Steve grinned and honored her request, softly enveloping Jaime in his arms. He was careful not to jostle the sling she wore – not because her arm needed it, but to keep her shoulder at least somewhat immobile. He ran his fingertips gently through her hair and leaned closer for a warm, tender kiss.

- - - - - -

Anger boiled through his every vein. It was bad enough that Austin had been at Jaime's side throughout her hospital stay – he was worse than a damn guard dog! - but now she was _moving in with him_, and that was unacceptable! _Poor Jaime; he's got you so confused you don't know where you belong anymore! I'll take care of that, and then...I'll take care of you. I love you._

- - - - - -

"Sam – great to see you!" Oscar said, warmly embracing his nephew. "What brings you to Los Angeles?"

"I had a little time off, and wanted to pay my favorite uncle a visit. Callahan told me where to find you."

"Favorite uncle? Last time I checked, I was your only uncle," Oscar said, grinning.

"Still my favorite. How are you?" Sam asked.

"Same as always; overworked but keeping on -"

"And Jaime?"

Oscar frowned. "Wasn't that a topic you were letting go of?" Sam's prior interest in Jaime had nearly caused a split between Jaime and Steve, and Sam had promised his uncle he'd keep a proper distance. So far, he had.

"Doesn't mean I can't ask about her." He looked expectantly at his uncle.

"She's fine. So is Steve."

"Great." Sam paused for a moment, staring into space. "So – how about lunch?"

- - - - - -

"We should've kept Jaime here, at least a few more days," Michael told Rudy.

"She'll be fine. Steve's keeping a closer watch on her than either of us – or even both of us – could."

"I know, but some lunatic already took one shot at them. Who knows what might happen next?"

- - - - - -

Chris paced nervously in Oscar's outer office, waiting with Russ for Oscar to return from lunch with his nephew. "Why would he take off now, with Jaime in danger?" Chris sputtered angrily.

"We don't know anyone is in danger," Russ said reasonably. He tried unsuccessfully to show Chris to a chair. "Besides, he hasn't left the country, Chris – he went to lunch."

"Ok, so Steve and Jaime just happened to be in the same place when someone just happened to fire a shot that accidentally happened to hit her." Chris shook his head. "You don't believe that, do you? We've got a lot of work ahead of us, you know."

Russ shrugged. "Maybe Sam could help. If someone is really after Steve or Jaime, Sam Argus might have valuable insight. I mean, look what he does for a living." Sam was the founder of an elite mental hospital. "If there's really a crazy person lurking in the shadows, maybe we could use his help."

- - - - - -

Steve was more than keeping his promise to Rudy. He was not only taking care of Jaime, he was anticipating her every need, sometimes before she knew she needed something.

"Steve," Jaime protested that evening, from the sofa, "I _like_ to cook. It's relaxing for me. You really don't have to make dinner."

Steve smiled as he handed her a plate. "It wasn't hard; Helen left my freezer well-stocked, last time she visited. But I did add parsley. And a kiss." He bent down and gently brushed her lips with his own.

As they shared a meal of Helen's pot roast, well-seasoned with each other's company, neither one of them noticed the shadow that moved several times past the window.

- - - - - -


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"Oscar," Steve said as he paced across the office the next morning, "maybe my eye can spot something Ballistics couldn't. Do you have the bullet?"

"Sure," Oscar answered, opening a locked desk drawer. "Right here...What the -?"

"Oscar?"

"It's gone."

Steve frowned. "Who else has that key?"

"Just Rudy, Russ and Callahan." Oscar picked up the phone. "Security? This is Oscar Goldman; I need you to pull a tape..."

- - - - - -

The fruits of his labor were in his hands – a stolen bullet and an erased security tape (for which he'd substituted a blank tape, in the camera) – and he smiled happily. His next bullet would soon be meeting its intended target, and before she knew it, Jaime would have no one else to turn to for support. His arms would be waiting.

He tucked his hair into his hat, cocked the gun and leaned back in the seat, staring intently at the driveway and waiting for his victim.

- - - - - -

Oscar was thinking about his friends as he drove. He did that quite often, but his thoughts were usually not so tense or worried. Chris Williams had been certain a psychotic person was out to murder either Steve or Jaime – possibly both. Oscar's nephew, Sam, was just as certain the shooting had been a random incident.

Oscar's own belief fell somewhere in between. With a missing bullet _and _ a blank videotape, there was obviously something going on. Oscar wanted to be certain his friends would stay safe, able to enjoy the new life they were looking forward to building together, and he intended to make sure they had the opportunity to do exactly that. As he neared his driveway, he resolved to assemble a fresh investigative team, first thing the next day.

At the exact same instant, Steve was turning his own car toward his driveway and thinking only of Jaime. He'd only intended to leave her by herself for an hour or two, but the theft and video-tampering at OSI-LA had made his visit an all day brainstorming session, instead. Maybe Jaime had been right, that morning, when she'd told him that – although she loved him for it – he was far too overprotective. Trouble was, he'd already nearly lost her twice: first to death, then to amnesia. A second chance was something to be grateful for, and here they were, being given a _third_ chance. Steve was willing to do anything – absolutely **anything** – to keep from losing Jaime again.

- - - - - -

Right on time, he watched the car's approach, raising the gun as the driver made the sharp turn into the driveway. A cacophony of danger and imminent death immediately followed his well-aimed shot. The windshield shattered, the driver's body hit the steering wheel with his weight causing a steady blast of the car's horn, and metal, glass and wood splintered into a single gruesome tableau as the car, its driver unaware, slammed into a tree.

He smiled victoriously, once again tossing the gun and his hat under the front seat of the car as his foot pressed down hard on the accelerator. He had to get back – _now_! He had a lot more work to do.

- - - - - -

Steve noted happily that Jaime, waiting for him on the front porch, was still wearing her sling, just as she'd promised. He knew how much she hated it, but she'd agreed to leave it on in deference to Steve's wish to keep her safe and help her heal.

"I missed you!" she chirped, leaning up to kiss him and pulling him close with her free, uninjured arm. Steve returned the embrace cautiously, and the kiss, eagerly. "Any news?" Jaime asked as they sat down together on the porch swing.

"Not since the last time I called you. Seems the security camera needs a security camera."

"Huh?"

Steve grinned, running his fingertips across her face, admiring the curve of her cheekbones, the feel of her skin. "Never mind. Wanna order a pizza?"

"Extra pepperoni, extra cheese," Jaime proclaimed.

"Whatever my lady wants -" he began, his sentence interrupted by the urgent, insistent ringing of the telephone.

- - - - - -

Steve's senses were on full alert to every nuance of their surroundings as he and Jaime made their way down the hospital hallway, to the private waiting room next to the ICU. He'd intended to leave her safely back at the house, but Jaime had insisted there was '_No chance in hell, Austin_,' so they'd ended up coming here together. He scarcely dared to breathe, though, until he'd escorted her safely past the armed guards and into the tiny anteroom. Jaime, her face pale with fear, curled up next to him in a chair, nestling as close to him as she could get, coveting the safety and reassuring warmth of his arms.

"Where's Rudy?" she asked tremulously, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"He said he'd meet us here."

"He'll be here," Steve said, trying to soothe her with his voice, "as soon as Oscar's stable." He held Jaime a little closer as the mention of their boss/friend's name started an even harder torrent of tears. "He's gonna be ok, Sweetheart. He's in the best possible hands."

Half an hour later, at the front entrance, Russ, Sam and Chris nearly slammed into each other on their rush to get inside. Each, for various reasons, had been delayed in receiving the message about Oscar, and in their states of confusion and heightened emotion, they didn't see each other until they all hit the huge front doors at the same time.

They were met at the elevator by Michael, coming from the direction of the lab, who was out of breath from his own sudden need to hurry. "I have to find Rudy," he told them, in lieu of a greeting. "Come on; I'll take you upstairs."

- - - - - -


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

_This was **not **supposed to happen! **Dammit! **_He walked furiously back and forth, unseen, at the end of the hospital hallway. Everyone else (except Rudy and Oscar, of course) was already in the tiny waiting room, anxiously awaiting word of Oscar's fate.

_Jaime, I know Steve wanted you to stay at the house; he's way too noble that way. But this time, for once, I wish you'd listened to him. You've forced my hand now, unfortunately, and it wasn't supposed to get this ugly this fast. You shouldn't have had to witness this, but...can't help that now, I guess._

_At least, this way, we'll be together even sooner..._

- - - - - -

Rudy slipped quietly into the waiting room, his face a mask of grim determination. Jaime was on her feet before any of the uninjured men surrounding her, and Rudy was alarmed to see her sway ominously as she grew even more shaky and pale. Steve was almost instantly standing beside her, his arm firmly supporting her; he'd seen her nearly go down, too.

"Rudy?" she began nervously, too frightened to say more.

"He's alive," Rudy affirmed. "The bullet's path would've led straight to his heart, but it hit a rib, deflected slightly, and passed through his lung and out his back. A large portion of his chest was badly bruised when he hit the steering wheel, but the good news is that his heart appears strong. I've placed him on a ventilator, so all of his strength can go toward starting to heal, rather his having to struggle to breathe."

"Is he conscious?" Steve asked, still tightly but carefully supporting Jaime.

"No," Rudy answered, "and I don't want him to be, until he regains more strength. I've got him under heavy sedation, for at least the next 12 to 24 hours."

"Can we see -"

Jaime's question was interrupted by the sound of two gunshots, in rapid succession – very nearby - and the _thud_ of bodies hitting the hard, tile floor. Six people moved as a single unit into the hallway, nearly tripping just outside the doorway on the prone, unmoving bodies of the two guards. There was virtually no blood; both had died instantly, apparently never having seen it coming and never even beginning to draw their own weapons. There was no one else in the hallway. Rudy futilely checked each in turn, then stood up, silently shaking his head. There was nothing he – or anyone else – could do.

Rudy moved quickly into the ICU to check on his patient, and Russ and Chris found phones where they could alert Security and assemble the army of OSI and NSB agents who would rapidly ascend upon the hospital. Steve and the other two men pulled Jaime into the room across the hall, assisting her onto the bed at the same instant that her legs gave out in shock. She stared wordlessly into Steve's eyes, too terrified and stunned to move or speak.

"Security will seal off the exits, and our people are gonna put a stop to this," Steve told her softly.

She was _not_ reassured. "Is...is Oscar ok?"

Steve turned to Sam. "Let's go check on your uncle. Jaime, you wait here."

"I'm going with you."

Steve looked into her eyes, and his voice was loving, but very firm. "_Please_ just wait for us here. I'll come right back with an update. You're already hurt, Sweetheart." His expression told her this one was non-negotiable, and Jaime sighed as she settled back onto the pillows. Steve kissed her quickly, and he and Sam hurried into the ICU.

Instead of Rudy, Steve and Sam found Michael at Oscar's bedside. He spun around to face them. "Did I just hear gunshots?" Michael asked.

"Where's Rudy?" Steve responded, ignoring the original question.

Michael shrugged. "No idea. Did anyone call Security?"

"Security _and_ half an army's worth of manpower," Steve told him. "Sam, why don't you stay here, and I'll go and start directing the teams." Steve left Sam with Michael and Oscar, but made one stop before heading to look for the reinforcements.

Jaime, true to her word, had remained where he'd left her, in the hospital bed. Steve looked around, expecting to find Russ and Chris, but Jaime was alone. "They're not back yet," she told him, seemingly reading his thoughts.

"What the hell -?" Steve, without realizing it, began thinking aloud. "Why do I get the feeling that if I went back to the ICU, Sam and Michael would be gone, too?"

"Huh?"

"Rudy...um...disappeared, somewhere between the hallway and Oscar's cubicle. This is like a really bad episode of the Twilight Zone."

"Steve -" Jaime was already out of bed and on her feet.

"Uh-uh; you're staying put."

"_Steve_ -"

"**_No_**, Sweetheart. Security has all the outside doors blocked, so whoever's doing this is somewhere in the hospital. That is, _if_ Security ever got the call in the first place."

"_What_? Steve, what is going on?" Jaime asked in a shaky voice.

"I'm gonna find out. _Now." _He picked up the bedside phone, but slammed it back into the base. "Damn - it's dead. Ok; I'll find another phone and make sure we've got teams on the way. I want you to lock the door behind me, just as soon as I leave."

"I'm going with -"

"_Jaime, **please** just stay here and **lock the door!**_" he insisted, a bit more sharply than he'd intended, but Steve didn't have time to argue. Jaime, frightened by his demeanor even more than she was by the whole situation, complied.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Steve poked his head back into the ICU on his way to the phone, and felt more and more like he'd fallen into the Twilight Zone. Oscar remained undisturbed in his glass cubicle, but Sam and Michael were both gone, and there was no sign of Rudy. The entire hospital was far too quiet. The intercom was silent, there were no rubber-soled footsteps hurrying through the hallways and Steve hadn't seen even a single nurse. For that matter, where were Chris and Russ? Judging from the fact that **no** reinforcements seemed to be arriving, he guessed they'd never made it as far as the phone.

He came to Rudy's office and didn't bother knocking; something told him Rudy wasn't there, either. When the door proved to be locked, with no hesitation, Steve planted a solid kick on the doorknob and sent the piece of hardwood flying off its hinges. His sole aim was now in view: Rudy's telephone. He picked up the receiver and breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the dial tone.

"Put the phone down, Steve," a flat, ominous voice instructed from behind him. Steve turned quickly and was met with a choking spray of mist, directly in his face. He knew his assailant well, but his mind didn't even have a chance to register his identity before his legs went out from under him and consciousness faded to pitch-black nothingness.

The man with the spray canister laughed contemptuously. "Time for you to learn no one takes Jaime from me without feeling the harsh reality of my own personal justice. _She's mine now_, Steve, just as soon as I take you to your final resting place."

- - - - - -

Jaime had done what Steve asked; she'd locked the door. Now, she paced on the other side of that door, feeling more trapped than a caged animal. No matter how closely she tried to tune in with her ear, she heard no voices, no footsteps. She moved to the window, pulled it open and stuck her head outside, straining to hear approaching cars, operatives...anything! But no one seemed to be coming. Frustrated as well as frightened, she reached over to open the door, stopping herself as she remembered her promise to Steve. Sighing, she sat back down on the bed and closed her eyes, trying to make sense out of everything that was happening. She heard a dull, dragging noise and a door that opened and closed, and it nearly sent her flying into the hallway, but she reasoned that when Steve came back for her, if she wasn't in this room, looking for her would put him in even more danger. Fear settled in a heavy lump in the pit of her stomach as she sat there, feeling like a prisoner.

Ten minutes later, the pit of her stomach – Oscar called it gut instinct - was screaming: _find Steve!_ She couldn't wait helplessly any longer, and, her decision made, she unlocked the door.

As Jaime turned the knob, she felt resistance, like someone was also turning it from the other side of the door. "Steve?" she called out, pulling the door open. It wasn't Steve.

Michael stood dead-center in the doorway, blocking her exit. His smile was warm and loving, but his eyes had a strange glint Jaime had never seen there before. "Hi there, Sunshine," he said softly. "I was just coming to get you. I guess great minds think alike, huh?"

Jaime shivered. "Where's Steve?"

"You don't need him anymore, Jaime," Michael crooned happily. "We've got each other now; we don't need anyone else."

Jaime was stunned into silence. This was obviously not the same Michael Marchetti she'd fallen in almost-love with, during her bout with amnesia. Something was horribly – _dangerously_ - wrong with him. The warm, compassionate doctor was no longer in the building, possibly no longer on the planet; a madman had taken his place. Jaime took a deep, steadying breath, suddenly realizing that several other lives, including Steve's, depended at least in part on how she handled the next few minutes.

"Michael?" she began hesitantly, "what's going on here? What are you doing?"

Michael shook his head in disbelief. "Don't you see? There's no one left to stop us. We can be together now, just like we were always meant to be." He took her left arm with a gentle touch. "Let's go, Sunshine. We've got a plane to catch."

Jaime's mind reeled. _No one left to stop us..._had Michael...**_killed_** everyone? "Michael, thank you," she said slowly, nearly choking on the words. "I know you've worked hard for this. But with Oscar in the hospital, I don't think it's a good time to -"

Michael's grip on her arm tightened to the point of pain, but Jaime forced herself not to cry out. "You don't have a choice, Jaime." He smiled in a sick, twisted version of a tender gaze. "It's not your fault; Steve has you so confused you don't know what's right anymore." His other arm snaked around her waist as he started to pull her closer. "_This_ is right," he whispered, leaning in to try and kiss her.

Jaime's arm in its sling put her slightly off balance, and she nearly fell as she twisted out of his grasp.

"Now _that_ was a mistake," Michael said, his voice growing sharp and threatening. Jaime stared at him as she regained solid footing, and found she was now staring directly down the barrel of a gun.

- - - - - -


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"You aren't going to shoot me, Michael," Jaime said in a clear, steady voice. "I know you could never shoot someone you love."

"You're wrong," he insisted. "I won't _kill_ you, but I **will** hurt you, if that's what it takes to bring you to your senses. _I will shoot you, Jaime_, but only if I have to." He resumed a firm, painful grip on her left arm. "We have to go now," he told her. "We're taking the Medivac to the airport."

Jaime planted her feet firmly where she stood. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"No, Michael. I'm not going. _Where are Steve and our friends_?" Jaime demanded, looking past the gun barrel and directly into Michael's eyes. "I want you to take me to wherever you've put Steve. Now."

"Steve is just fine. He's cooling his heels in a nice little private room. We have to go now, Jaime."

"I said NO!" She tried to twist away from him again, but Michael dug his fingers into the flesh of her arm until he forced her to cry out. The hand that held the gun moved behind her head, twisting her long hair into a tightly-gripped ball around his fist as he pressed the gun to her head.

"This is how you're playing it? You need a little more persuasion?" Michael said through angrily-gritting teeth. "Fine. Just remember, this is all your fault." He forced Jaime down the hall, pulling her by her arm and her hair, until they reached the ICU, where he forced her into Oscar's cubicle. "Sit down, Jaime," he ordered, pushing her roughly into a chair. "You move, and you both die."

Michael stepped to Oscar's bedside. "He does look peaceful. He's doing well." He removed a syringe from his pocket. "At least, he was." Before Jaime could react, Michael had injected Oscar with the contents of the syringe and tossed the needle to the floor. Within seconds, Oscar's skin turned bluish-gray, and he started coughing, choking on the respirator tube. Michael turned to Jaime, his eyes glowing. "He has about an hour to live, Jaime. Do you see that door, on the other end of the unit?" Jaime stared in mute horror, nodding just slightly. "Rudy is behind that locked door, and he has the antidote. Do you want me to let him out? Jaime?"

"Let him out. Please. You...don't wanna do this, Michael." _Give me courage, _she pleaded to her own mind and soul. _This **has** to work_! "The Michael I...love isn't a killer."

She'd said it; he'd heard it! Michael smiled triumphantly, and pulled a small metal box from his other pocket. "I love you, too, Sunshine. Let's get going, and I'll open the door when we get on the Medivac; I've got a remote."

Jaime obediently rose from the chair, leaving her sling behind, where it slipped to the floor, unnoticed by Michael. She was trembling all over, and she'd decided to use that to her advantage, to play up her vulnerability and try to bring out any softness he might have left inside. The sway as she stood up was no act, either, but she forced herself to take his arm and lean into his body for support. It worked.

"I gotcha," he said softly, his attention now on helping her stay upright. "Let's go."

Jaime allowed him to lead her into the hallway, then let her body go completely limp. She slipped from his arm and fell to the floor in what appeared to be a dead faint. She could hear Oscar's body desperately struggling for life, and she forced herself to remain completely still and silent.

"Jaime?" Michael knelt down and leaned over her body, and when she felt his breath coming closer, Jaime swung her right arm up and caught him in the neck, slamming him into the wall, where he slid to the floor, barely semi-conscious. She grabbed the remote from his hand, pressed the button and watched to make sure the door did, indeed open. Yes, Rudy was behind it, and he ran to Oscar's side. Satisfied, Jaime removed her belt and used it to secure Michael's hands behind his back, ignoring the pain in her shoulder as she pulled the bond tight. She removed the belt he wore and used that one to secure his legs, then leaned in close to his face as he began to regain awareness.

"I'm sorry, Michael," she said in a voice filled with quiet anger. "Just remember, this is all your fault."

- - - - - -

When Jaime joined Rudy, Oscar's condition had already drastically improved. Healthy color had returned to his face, and to Rudy's, as well. Rudy took Jaime's arm gently, alarmed by the new swelling in her shoulder.

"I'd better have a look at that, Honey."

Jaime smiled fondly at her doctor. "I'm ok; we have to get help."

"I've already made the call. There's a phone at the ICU desk."

"What about Steve and the others?" Jaime asked anxiously. "Where did Michael take them?"

Rudy took one more quick look at his patient in the bed, then took a key from his pocket. "Let's check the supply closets." He and Jaime worked their way through the ward and then down the hallway, and found Sam, Russ and Chris, each hand-cuffed to a shelf in a separate closet. No one had seen Steve.

Jaime thought hard, reluctantly replaying every detail of the day's ordeal in her mind. "Michael said Steve was 'cooling his heels in his own little private room'. Rudy, where are the freezers?"

They checked the freezer in the staff room and both huge walk-in freezers in the hospital kitchen – no Steve. Jaime began to grow frantic. Rudy had one more idea. It seemed to awful to contemplate, but...

"The morgue," he said quietly.

- - - - - -


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Rudy stopped and looked at Jaime when they reached the door to the morgue. "Honey, why don't you wait out here? You don't need to see this." He realized, even before he said it, that she'd be coming in anyway. Rudy opened the first drawer and was shocked and alarmed to see a body (not Steve's) that was covered with ice crystals. He immediately opened a wall panel and flipped a switch, cursing softly to himself.

"Rudy?" Jaime asked. "What….is it?"

"Someone took the cooling system off its automatic setting, and set the manual control as far below freezing as it would go. It had to be Michael -"

"Is it cold enough to disable Steve's bionics?"

"I'm afraid so," Rudy answered regretfully. "We have to hurry!" He and Jaime began quickly pulling open drawers, one after the other. Some were empty, some held bodies and, when she got to one of the last drawers at the far end, Jaime gave the handle a frustrated, determined tug. Jaime's hazel eyes filled with tears as she saw Steve's blue ones staring up at her, blinking to let her know he was alive.

Very slowly, he began to sit up, his brain still spinning from the effects of the knockout spray. Jaime wrapped both of her arms around him, preparing to lift him off of the shelf, but both men stopped her.

"Your shoulder," they said, almost in unison.

"I don't care," she said, letting Rudy help her get Steve onto a gurney. "Are you alright?" she asked, still holding him close. "Did he….hurt you?"

"I'll be ok," Steve said through slightly chattering teeth. "Are _you_ ok? Did he…?"

"No permanent damage," she assured him lightly.

"Did they get him?" Steve asked. He didn't realize their 'army' had just arrived.

"_Jaime_ got him," Rudy answered. "Brought him down, roped and tied, all by herself. This lady saved all of us, single-handedly."

"Jaime…." Steve started to say, reaching a thawing arm up to caress her face. Then he saw the ugly purple bruise covering most of her left arm and the awful swelling of her right shoulder. "Oh, God - he _did _hurt you…"

"Steve, I'm ok," she reaffirmed, smiling at him.

Steve was not convinced. "Rudy -"

"I'll definitely be checking her out," Rudy said.

"You can check all you want," Jaime replied, "but this place gives me the creeps. Can we get outta here now?"

"You heard the lady," Steve said lightly. The trio headed upstairs on the elevator, into the warmth, light and hopeful promise of the sunshine.

- - - - - -

Three days later, as Oscar was being moved out of ICU into a private room, Steve and Jaime were both preparing to leave the hospital, to return to what they now considered _their _home.

"I know you'll both look out for each other," Rudy told them. "I have no worries about that, but….nothing….ah…._strenuous_, guys." Steve chuckled, and Jaime raised an eyebrow at each of them in turn.

"We'll behave," Steve promised, "but isn't exercise a good healer?"

"Steve!" Jaime swatted him playfully. She smiled innocently at Rudy. "We'll be good."

"I know you will," the doctor answered. "I'll just go and get your prescriptions, and you two are out of here."

Steve wrapped his arms tenderly around the woman who had saved his life - who **_was _**his life - and gazed into eyes he knew he'd never be separated from, ever again. "I've already got the best medicine in the world, right here."

END


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